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The Parlor Gar 

A FARCE 

By W. D. Howells 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

Houghton, Mifflin 6° Co. 



L 






Pm waived 

CT 3 1904 

GLAUS d XXo. Na 

^ 140 
' COPY B 



V- ..am, U t — : .. 



COPYRIGHT, 1876 AND I904, BY W. D. HOWELLS 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



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c-O 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



FARCE. 

Scene : A Parlor Car on the New York Cen- 
tral Railroad. It is late afternoon in the 
early autumn, with a cloudy sunset threaten- 
ing rain. The car is unoccupied save by a 
gentleman, who sits fronting one of the win- 
dows, with his feet in another chair ; a news- 
paper lies across his lap ; his hat is drawn 
down over his eyes, and he is apparently 
asleep. The rear door of the car opens, and 
the conductor enters with a young lady, 
heavily veiled, the porter coming after with 
her wraps and travelling-bags. The lady's 




THE PARLOR CAR. 

air is of mingled anxiety and desperation, 
with a certain fierceness of movement. She 
casts a careless glance over the empty chairs. 

CONDUCTOR. "Here's your 
ticket, madam. You can have 
any of the places you like here, or/' — 
glancing at the unconscious gentleman, 
and then at the young lady, — "if you 
prefer, you can go and take that seat in 
the forward car." 

Miss Lucy Galbraith. " 0, I 
can't ride backwards. I '11 stay here, 
please. Thank you." The porter 
places her things in a chair by a win- 
dow, across the car from the sleeping 
gentleman, and she throws herself wea- 



THE PARLOR CAR. 5 

rily into the next seat, wheels round in 
it, and lifting her veil gazes absently 
out at the landscape. Her face, which 
is very pretty, with a low forehead shad- 
owed by thick blond hair, shows the 
traces of tears. She makes search in 
her pocket for her handkerchief, which 
she presses to her eyes. The conductor, 
lingering a moment, goes out. 

Porter. " I'll be right here, at de 
end of de cah, if you should happen to 
want anything, miss/' — making a feint 
of arranging the shawls and satchels. 
" Should you like some dese things 
hung up ? Well, dey '11 be jus' as well 
in de chair. We 's pretty late dis after- 



6 THE PARLOR CAR. 

noon ; more 'n four hours behin' time. 
Ought to been into Albany 'fore dis. 
Freight train off de track jus' dis side 
o' Rochester, an' had to wait. Was 
you goin' to stop at Schenectady, 

4 

miss ? " 

Miss G., absently. "At Schenec- 
tady ? " After a pause, " Yes." 

Porter. " Well, that 's de next sta- 
tion, and den de cahs don't stop ag% 
till dey git to Albany. Anything else 
I can do for you now, miss ? " 

Miss G. " No, no, thank you, noth- 
ing." The porter hesitates, takes off 
his cap, and scratches his head with a 
murmur of embarrassment. Miss Gal- 



THE PARLOR CAR. 7 

braith looks up at him inquiringly, and 
then suddenly takes out her porte-mon- 
naie and fees him. 

Porter. " Thank you, miss, thank 
you. If you want anything at all, miss, 
I'm right dere at de end of de call." 
He goes out by the narrow passage-way 
beside the smaller enclosed parlor. 
Miss Galbraith looks askance at the 
sleeping gentleman, and then, rising, 
goes to the large mirror, to ^pin her veil, 
which has become loosened from her 
hat. She gives a little start at sight 
of the gentleman in the mirror, but 
arranges her head-gear, and returning 
to her place looks out of the window 



8 THE PARLOR CAR. 

again. After a little while she moves 
about uneasily in her chair, then leans 
forward and tries to raise her window ; 
she lifts it partly up, when the catch 
slips from her fingers and the window 
falls shut again with a crash. 

Miss G. " dear, how provoking ! 
I suppose I must call the porter." She 
rises from her seat, but on attempting 
to move away she finds that the skirt of 
her polonaise has been caught in the 
falling window. She pulls at it, and 
then tries to lift the window again, but 
the cloth has wedged it in, and she can- 
not stir it. "Well, I certainly think 
this is beyond endurance ! Porter ! 




THE PARLOR CAR. 9 

<» 

Ah, — porter ! 0, he '11 never hear 
me in the racket that these wheels are 
making ! I wish they 'd stop, — I — " 

The gentleman stirs in his chair, lifts 
his head, listens, takes his feet down 
from the other seat, rises abruptly, and 
comes to Miss Galbraith's side. 

Mr. Allen Richards. "Will you 
allow me to open the window for 
you ? " Starting back, " Miss Gal- 
braith ! " 

Miss G. "Al — Mr. Richards!" 
There is a silence for some moments, in 
which they remain looking at each 
other; then, 

Mr. Richards. " Lucy ■ 



» 



10 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Miss G. " I forbid you to address 
rue in that wav, Mr. Richards." 

Mr. R. " ^Vhy, you were just going 
to call me Allen ! M 

Miss G. "That was an accident, 
you know very well, — an impulse — w 

Mr. R. " Well, so is this." 

Miss G. " Of which you ought 
to be ashamed to take advantage. I 
wonder at your presumption in speak- 
ing to me at all. It f s quite idle, I can 
assure you. Everything is at an end 
between us. It seems that I bore with 
you too long ; but I'm thankful that I 
had the spirit to act at last, and to act 
in time. And now that chance lias 



THE PARLOR CAR. H 

thrown us together, I trust that you 
will not force your conversation upon 
me. No gentleman would, and I have 
always given you credit for thinking 
yourself a gentleman. I request that 
you will not speak to me." 

Mr. R. " You Ve spoken ten words 
to me for every one of mine to you. 
But I won't annoy you. I can't be- 
lieve it, Lucy ; I can not believe it. It 
seems like some rascally dream, and if 
I had had any sleep since it happened, 
I should think I had dreamed it." 

Miss G. " Oh ! You were sleeping 
soundly enough when I got into the 
car ! " 



12 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Mr. R. " I own it ; I was perfectly 
used up, and I had dropped off/ J 

Miss G., scornfully. " Then perhaps 
you have dreamed it." 

Mr. R. " I '11 think so till you tell 
me again that our engagement is 
broken ; that the faithful love of years 
is to go for nothing ; that you dismiss 
me with cruel insult, without one word 
of explanation, without a word of in- 
telligible accusation, even. It 's too 
much! I've been thinking it all over 
and over, and I can't make head or tail 
of it. I meant to see you again ;is 
soon as we got to town, and implore 
you to hear me. Come, it 'a a mighty 



THE PARLOR CAR. 13 

serious matter, Lucy. I 'm not a man 
to put on heroics and that ; but / be- 
lieve it '11 play the very deuce with me, 
Lucy, — that is to say, Miss Galbraith, 
— I do indeed. It'll give me a low 
opinion of woman/' 

Miss G., averting her face. "0, a 
very high opinion of woman you have 
had ! " 

Mr. R., with sentiment. "Well, 
there was one woman whom I thought 
a perfect angel." 

Miss G. " Indeed ! May I ask her 
name ? " 

Mr. E., with a forlorn smile. " I 
shall be obliged to describe her some- 
what formally as — Miss Galbraith." 



14 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Miss G. " Mr. Eichards ! " 

Mr. E. " Why, you 've just forbid- 
den me to say Lucy ! You must tell 
me, dearest, what I have done to offend 
you. The worst criminals are not con- 
demned unheard, and I've always 
thought you were merciful if not just. 
And now I only ask you to be just." 

Miss G\, looking out of the win- 
dow. "You know very well what 
you 've done. You can't expect me to 
humiliate myself by putting your of- 
fence into words/' 

Mr. E. "Upon my soul, I don't 
know what you mean ! I don't know 
what I've done. When you came at 



THE PARLOR CAR. 15 

me, last night, with my ring and pres- 
ents and other little traps, yon might 
have knocked me down with the light- 
est of the lot. I was perfectly dazed; 
I could n't say anything before you 
were off, and all I could do was to hope 
that you 'd be more like yourself in the 
morning. And in the morning, when 
I came round to Mrs. Phillips's, I 
found you were gone, and I came after 
you by the next train/' 

Miss G. " Mr. Richards, your per- 
sonal history for the last twenty-four 
hours is a matter of perfect indifference 
to me, as it shall be for the next 
twenty-four hundred years. I see that 



16 THE PARLOR CAR. 

you are resolved to annoy me, and since 
yon will not leave the car, i" must do 
so." She rises haughtily from her 
seat, but the imprisoned skirt of her 
polonaise twitches her abruptly back 
into her chair. She bursts into tears. 
" 0, what shall I do ? " 

Mr. R., dryly. u You shall do what- 
ever you like, Miss Galbraith, when 
I 've set you free ; for I see your dress 
is caught in the window. When it's 
once out, I'll shut the window, and 
you can call the porter to raise it." 
He leans forward over her chair, and 
while she shrinks back the length of 
her tether, he tugs at the window-fast- 



THE PARLOR CAR. 17 

ening. "I can't get at it. Would 
you be so good as to stand up, — all 
you can ? " Miss Galbraith stands up, 
droopingly, and Mr. Richards makes a 
movement towards her, and then falls 
back. "No, that won't do. Please 
sit down again/' He goes round her 
chair and tries to get at the window 
from that side. " I can't get any pur- 
chase on it. Why don't you cut out 
that piece ? " Miss Galbraith stares at 
him in dumb amazement. "Well, I 
don't see what we're to do. I'll go 
and get the porter." He goes to the 
end of the car, and returns. "I can't 
find the porter, — he must be in one of 



18 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



the other cars. But" — brightening 
with the fortunate conception — u I \e 
, just thought of something. Will it 
unbutton ? M 

Miss G. " Unbutton ? ,J 

Mr. R. " Yes ; this garment of 
yours." 

Miss G. "My polonaise?" Inquir- 
ingly, "Yes." 

Mr. R. " Well, then, it 'a a very 
simple matter. If you will just take it 
off I can easily — " 

Miss G., faintly. "I can't. A polo- 
naise is n't like an overcoai — M 

Mr. R., with dismay, "Oh! Well, 
then — " He remains thinking a mo- 
ment in hopeless perplexity. 



THE PARLOR CAR. 19 

Miss G., with polite ceremony. 
" The porter will be back soon. Don't 
trouble yourself any further about it, 
please. I shall do very well." 

Mr. R, without heeding her. " If 
you could kneel on that foot-cushion 
and face the window — " 

Miss G., kneeling promptly. " So ? " 

Mr. E. " Yes, and now " — kneel- 
ing beside her — u if you '11 allow me 
to — to get at the window catch/' — 
he stretches both arms forward ; she 
shrinks from his right into his left, and 
then back again, — "and pull, while I 
raise the window — " 

Miss G. " Yes, yes ; but do hurry, 



20 THE PARLOR CAR. 

please. If any one saw us, I don't 
know what they would think. It 's 
perfectly ridiculous ! M — - pulling. " It 's 
caught in the corner of the window, 
between the frame and the sash, and 
it won't come ! Is my hair troubling 
you ? Is it in your eyes ? n 

Mr. R. u It 's in my eyes, but it 
isn't troubling me. Am I inconven- 
iencing you ? w 

MissG. " 0, not at all." 

Mr. R. "Well, now then, pull 
hard ! " He lifts the window with a 
great effort; the polonaise comes free 
with a start, and she strikes violently 
against him. In supporting the shock 



THE PARLOR CAR. 21 

he cannot forbear catching her for an 
instant to his heart. She frees herself, 
and starts indignantly to her feet. 

Miss G. " 0, what a cowardly — 
subterfuge ! " 

Mr. R. " Cowardly ? You 've no 
idea how much courage it took." Miss 
Galbraith puts her handkerchief to her 
face, and sobs. " 0, don't cry ! Bless 
my heart, — I 'm sorry I did it ! But 
you know how dearly I love you, Lucy, 
though I do think you've been cruelly 
unjust. I told you I never should love 
any one else, and I never shall. I 
could n't help it, upon my soul I could 
n't. Nobody could. Don't let it vex 
you, my — " He approaches her. 



22 THE PARLOR CAR. 

. Miss G. " Please not touch me, sir ! 
You have no longer any right what- 
ever to do so." 

Mr. E. "You misinterpret a very 
inoffensive gesture. I have no idea of 
touching you, but I hope I may be 
allowed, as a special favor, to — pick 
up my hat, which you are in the act 
of stepping on." Miss Galbraith has- 
tily turns, and strikes the hat with her 
whirling skirts; it rolls to the other 
side of the parlor, and Mr. Eichards, 
who goes after it, utters an ironical 
" Thanks ! n He brushes it and puts 
it on, looking at her where she has 
again seated herself at the window 



THE PARLOR CAR. 23 

with her back to him, and continues, 
"As for any further molestation from 



me — " 



Miss G. "If you will talk to 



me — " 



Mr. E. "Excuse me, I am not 
talking to you." 

Miss G. "What were you doing?" 

Mr. E. " I was beginning to think 
aloud. I — I was soliloquizing. I 
suppose I may be allowed to solilo- 
quize ? " 

Miss G., very coldly. "You can do 
what you like." 

Mr. E. " Unfortunately that 's just 
what I can't do. If I could do as I 



24 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



liked, I should ask you a single ques- 
tion." 

Miss G., after a moment. "Well, 
sir, you may ask your question." She 
remains as before, with her chin in her 
hand, looking tearfully out of the win- 
dow ; her face is turned from Mr. Rich- 
ards, who hesitates a moment before 
he speaks. 

Mr. E. "I wish to ask you just 
this, Miss Galbraith : if you could n't 
ride backwards in the other car, why 
do you ride backwards in this?" 

Miss G., burying her face in her 
handkerchief, and sobbing. " Oil, oh, 
oh ! This is too bad ! " 




THE PARLOR CAR. 25 

Mr. R. "0, come now, Lucy. 
It breaks my heart to hear you going 
on so, and all for nothing. Be a little 
merciful to both of us, and listen to 
me. I've no doubt I can explain 
everything if I once understand it, but 
it's pretty hard explaining a thing if 
you don't understand it yourself. Do 
turn round. I know it makes you sick 
to ride in that way, and if you don't 
want to face me — there ! " — wheeling 
in his chair so as to turn his back upon 
her — " you need n't. Though it 's 
rather trying to a fellow's politeness, 
not to mention his other feelings. Now, 
what in the name — " 



26 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Porter, who at this moment enters 
with his step-ladder, and begins to light 
the lamps. " Going pretty slow ag'in, 
sail/" 

Mr. E. "Yes; what's the trouble?" 

Porter. "Well, I don't know ex- 
actly, sah. Something de matter with 
de locomotive. We sha' n't be into 
Albany much 'fore eight o'clock." 

Mr. R. "What's the next sta- 
tion?" 

Porter. " Schenectady." 

Mr. R. "Is the whole train as 
empty as this car?" 

Porter, laughing. "Well, no, sah. 
Fact is, dis cah don't belong on (lis 



THE PARLOR CAR. 27 

train. It 's a Pullman that we 
hitched on when you got in, and we 's 
taking it along for one of de Eastern 
roads. We let you in 'cause de Draw- 
ing-rooms was all full. Same with de 
lady/' — looking sympathetically at her, 
as he takes up his steps to go out. 
" Can I do anything for you now, 
miss ? " 

Miss G., plaintively. "No, thank 
you; nothing whatever. " She has turned 
while Mr. Richards and the porter have 
been speaking, and now faces the back 
of the former, but her veil is drawn 
closely. The porter goes out. 

Mr. E., wheeling round so as to 



28 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



confront her. "I wish you would speak 
to me half as kindly as you do to that 
darky, Lucy." 
Miss G. " He is a gentleman ! n 
Mr. E. "He is an urbane and will- 
informed nobleman. At any rate, b 
a man and a brother. But so am L ,J 
Miss Galbraith does not reply, and 
after a pause Mr. Richards resumi 
"Talking of gentlemen, I recollei 
once, coming up on the day-boat to 
Poughkeepsie, there was ;i poor devil 
of a tipsy man kept following a young 
fellow about, and annoying him to 
death, — trying to fight him, as a tij 
man will, and insisting that the young 



THE PARLOR CAR. 29 

fellow had insulted him. By and by 
he lost his balance and went overboard, 
and the other jumped after him and 
fished him out." Sensation on the 
part of Miss Galbraith, who stirs un- 
easily in her chair, looks out of the 
window, then looks at Mr. Bichards, 
and drops her head. " There was a 
young lady on board, who had seen 
the whole thing, — a very charming 
young lady indeed, with pale blond 
hair growing very thick over her fore- 
head, and dark eyelashes to the sweet- 
est blue eyes in the world. Well, this 
young lady's papa was amongst those 
who came up to say civil things to 



30 THE PARLOR CAR. 

the young fellow when he got abo, 
again, and to ask the honor — he said 
the honor — of his acquaintance. And 
when he came out of his state-room in 
dry clothes, this infatuated old gentle- 
man was waiting for him, and took 
him and introduced him to his wife 
and daughter. And the daughter said, 
with tears in her eyes, and a perfectly 
intoxicating impulsiveness, that it was 
the grandest and the most heroic and 
the noblest thing that she had c 
seen, and she should always be a better 
girl for having seen it. Excuse m<\ 
Miss Galbraith, for troubling you with 
these facts of a personal history which, 






THE PARLOR CAR. 31 

as you say, is a matter of perfect indif- 
ference to you. The young fellow 
did n't think at the time he had 
done anything extraordinary; but I 
don't suppose he did expect to live 
to have the same girl tell him he was 
no gentleman/' 

Miss G., wildly. "0 Allen, Al- 
len ! You know I think you are a 
gentleman, and I always did ! " 

Mr. R., languidly. " 0, I merely 
had your word for it, just now, that 
you did n't." Tenderly, " Will you 
hear me, Lucy ? 

Miss G., faintly. " Yes/ 

Mr. E. "Well, what is it I've 



)) 



y> 



32 THE PARLOR CAR. 

done? TTill you tell me if I guess 
right ? " 

Miss G., with dignity. "I am in 
no humor for jesting, Allen. And I 
can assure you that though I consent 
to hear what you have to si\, or ask, 
nothing will change my determination. 
All is over between us." 

Mr. R. " Yes, I understand that 

perfectly. I am now asking merely 
for general information. I do not e 
pect you to relent, and in fact 1 should 
consider it rather frivolous if yon did. 

No. What I have alwaj dmiied in 

your character, Lucy, is a linn, 1< 
consistency; a clearness of mental 



THE PARLOR CAR. 33 

vision that leaves no side of a subject 
unsearched; and an unwavering con- 
stancy of purpose. You may say that 
these traits are characteristic of all 
women ; but they are pre-eminently 
characteristic of you, Lucy." Miss Gal- 
braith looks askance at him, to make 
out whether he is in earnest or not ; 
he continues, with a perfectly serious 
air. u And I know now that if you 're 
offended with me, it 's for no trivial 
cause." She stirs uncomfortably in 
her chair. " "What I have done I can't 
imagine, but it must be something 
monstrous, since it has made life with 
me appear so impossible that you are 



34 THE PARLOR CAR. 

ready to fling away your own happi- 

18 — for I know you did love D 
Lucy — and destroy mine. I will be- 
trin with the worst thing I can think 
of. Was it because 1 danced so much 
with Fannv Watervli 

* 

indignantly. il<»w can 
yon msult me bj supposing thai I 
could be jealous of such a perfect little 
goose as tha Allen ! \\ 

r I think of you, I 

too much fol U 

Mr. R. u I 'm glad to heat that 

there ;ip depths to which \<>u think 

me incapabl ending, and that 

BfiSfl Watervliet is one miii. I 



THE PARLOR CAR. 35 

will now take a little higher ground. 
Perhaps you think I flirted with Mrs. 
Dawes. I thought, myself, that the 
thing might begin to have that ap- 
pearance, but I give you my word of 
honor that as soon as the idea occurred 
to me, I dropped her, — rather rudely, 
too. The trouble was, don't you know, 
that I felt so perfectly safe with a mar- 
ried friend of yours. I could n't be 
hanging about you all the time, and 
I was afraid I might vex you if I 
went with the other girls ; and I 
didn't know what to do." 

Miss G. "I think you behaved 
rather silly, giggling so much with 
her. But — " 



36 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



Mr. E. " I own it, I know it was 
silly. But — n 

Miss («. "It was n't that ; it i 
n't that ! M 

Mr. R. "Was it uiv forgetting to 

bring you those things from \our 
mother ? w 

Miss G. "No!" 

Mi;. EL u W,h it because 1 bad n't 

given up smoking yet ? " 

Miss (i. "Yon /•//"//• I never asked 
you to giro uj> smokinj It was en- 
tirely your own proposition." 

MR. It. "That 's true. Tha" 

what made me bo easy about it. I 
knew 1 eould leave it off an* tunc 



THE PARLOR CAR. 37 

Well, I will not disturb you any longer, 
Miss Galbraith." He throws his over- 
coat across his arm, and takes up his 
travelling-bag. "I have failed to guess 
your fatal — conundrum; and I have 
no longer any excuse for remaining. 
I am going into the smoking-car. 
Shall I send the porter to you for 
anything ? " 

Miss G. " No, thanks." She puts 
up her handkerchief to her face. 

Mr. R. "Lucy, do you send me 
away ? " 

Miss G., behind her handkerchief. 
"You were going, yourself." 

Mr. E., over his shoulder. "Shall 
I come back ? " 



38 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Miss G. "I have no right to 
drive you from the car. ,J 

Mr. R., coining back, and sitting 
down in the chair nearest her. "Lu 
dearest, tell me what the mat- 

ter." 

Miss G. "0, Allen, your not 
knowing makes it all the more hopeL 
and killing. It shows me that 
must part ; that you would go on, 
breaking my heart, and grinding me 
into the dual as long as we lived.' 

She sobs. "It shows me that 3 

never understood me, and you ne. 

will. I know you're good and kind 

and all that, but that only ma 



THE PARLOR CAR. 39 

your not understanding me so much 
the worse. I do it quite as much for 
your sake as my own, Allen." 

Mr. E. " I M much rather you 
would n't put yourself out on my ac- 
count/'' 

Miss G., without regarding him. 
"If you could mortify me before a 
whole roomful of people as you did 
last night, what could I expect after 
marriage but continual insult ? w 

Mr. E,., in amazement. "How did 
I mortify you? I thought that I 
treated you with all the tenderness 
and affection that a decent regard for 
the feelings of others would allow. I 



40 THE PARLOR CAR. 

was ashamed to find I could n't keep 
away from you." 

Miss G. "0, you were attent 
enough, Allen; nobody denies that . 
Attentive enough in non - essentials. 

yes ! " 

Mr. R "Well, what vital matt 
did I fail in? I 'in sure I can't re- 
member." 

Miss G. " I dare say ! I dare 
they won't appear vital to you, Allen. 
Nothing does. And if I had told yon, 

1 should have been met with ridicule, 
I suppose. Uut I knew better than 
to tell; I respected myself too much" 

Mr. R. " lint now yon must n't 



THE PARLOR CAR. 41 

respect yourself quite so much, dearest. 
And I promise you I won't laugh at 
the most serious thing. I'm in no 
humor for it. If it were a matter of 
life and death, even, I can assure you 
that it would n't bring a smile to my 
countenance. No, indeed ! If you ex- 
pect me to laugh, now, you must say 
something particularly funny/' 

Miss G. w I was not going to say 
anything funny y as you call it, and I 
will say nothing at all, if you talk in 
that way." 

Mr. R. "Well, I won't, then. 
But do you know what I suspect, 
Lucy? I would n't mention it to 



42 THE PARLOR CAR. 

everybody, but I will to you — in 
strict confidence : I suspect that you 're 
rather ashamed of your grievance, if 
you have any. I suspect it 'a nothing 
at all/' 

Miss G., very sternly at first, with 
a rising hysterical inflection. "Noth- 
ing, Allen ! Do you call it nothing > 
to have Mrs. Dawes come out with 
all that about your accident on your 
waj up the river, and ask me it' it 
did n't frighten me terribly to hear 
of it, even after it was all over; and 
I had to say you had n'l told me a 
word of it? 'Why, Lucy! ,w — an- 
grily mimicking Mrs. Dav — u ' you 



THE PARLOR CAR. 43 

must teach him better than that. I 
make Mr. Dawes tell me everything/ 
Little simpleton ! And then to have 
them all laugh, — O dear, it 's too 
much ! " 

Mr. E. " Why, my dear Lucy — " 
Miss G., interrupting him. " I saw 
just how it was going to be, and I 'm 
thankful, thanhful that it happened. 
I saw that you did n't care enough 
for me to take me into your whole 
life; that you despised and distrusted 
me, and that it would get worse and 
worse to the end of our days ; that 
we should grow further and further 
apart, and I should be left moping at 



44 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



home, while you ran about making 
confidantes of other women whom you 
considered worth?/ of your oonfideo 
It all flashed upon me in an instant; 
and I resolved to break with you, then 
and there; and I did, just OD as 

ever I could go to my room lor yow 
things, and I 'in glad, — yes, — () hu, 
hu, hu, hu, hu! — 90 glad 1 did it 

Mr. E., grimly. "Yow joy ifl ob- 
vious. May I ask — M 

Miss (i. "<), it was n't the j \ 
proof you hail given me liow little you 

really cared for me, but I was del 

mined it should be the last. I d 
say you've forgotten them I I dare 



THE PARLOR CAR. 45 

say you don't remember telling Mamie 
Morris that you didn't like crocheted 
cigar-cases, when you'd just told me 
that you did, and let me be such a 
fool as to commence one for you ; but 
I 'm thankful to say that went into 
the fire, — yes, instantly ! And 
I dare say you've forgotten that you 
didn't tell me your brother's engage- 
ment was to be kept, and let me come 
out with it that night at the Eudges' 
and then looked perfectly aghast, so 
that everybody thought I had been 
blabbing ! Time and again, Allen, you 
have made me suffer agonies, yes, ago- 
nies ; but your power to do so is at 



46 THE PARLOR CAR. 

an end. I am free and happy at la 
She weeps bitterly. 

Mr. B., quietly. "Yes, 1 lad for- 
gotten those crii and I suppose 
manv Bimilar atroci: s. I own it. I 
am forgetful and I l 
wrong about those 1 1 ought 
to have told 1 tlui 
IfiflB Morris ; 1 he WJ 
going to work me As to ti 
accide: I told Mrs. Dawes of, 
wm n't worth mentioning 

I oi i in tin 

rt. 1 
n't ha _ r ht : :it it, if 

she hadn't happened to brag of th- 



THE PARLOR CAR. 47 

passing close to an iceberg on their 
way home from Europe ; then I trotted 
out my pretty-near disaster as a match 
for hers, — confound her! I wish the 
iceberg had sunk them ! Only it would 
n't have sunk her, — she 's so light ; 
she 'd have gone bobbing about all over 
the Atlantic Ocean, like a cork ; she 's 
got a perfect life-preserver in that mind 
of hers." Miss Galbraith gives a little 
laugh, and then a little moan. " But 
since you are happy, I will not repine, 
Miss Galbraith. I don't pretend to 
be very happy myself, but then, I don't 
deserve it. Since vou are readv to let 
an absolutely unconscious offence on 



48 THE PARLOR CAR. 

my part cancel all the past ; since you 
let my devoted love weigh as nothing 
against the momentary pique that a 
malicious little rattle-pate — she was 
vexed at my leaving her — could make 
you feel, and choose to gratify a wicked 
resentment at the cost of any suffering 
to me, why, / can be glad and happy, 
too." With rising anger, u Yes, Miss 
Galbraith. All is over between us. 
You can go ! I renounce you ! w 

Miss G., springing fiercely to her 
feet. " Go, indeed ! Renounce me ! 
Be so good as to remember that you 
have n't got me to renounce ! w 

Mr. R. "Well, it's all the same 



THE PARLOR CAR. 49 

thing. I'd renounce you if I had. 
Good evening, Miss Galbraith. I will 
send back your presents as soon as I 
get to town ; it won't be necessary to 
acknowledge them. I hope we may 
never meet again." He goes out of 
the door towards the front of the car, 
but returns directly, and glances un- 
easily at Miss Galbraith, who remains 
with her handkerchief pressed to her 
eyes. " Ah — a — that is — I shall 
be obliged to intrude upon you again. 
The fact is — " 

Miss G., anxiously. "Why, the cars 
have stopped ! Are we at Schenec- 
tady ? " 



50 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Mr. R. " Well, no ; not exactly ; 
not exactly at Schenectady — w 

Miss G. "Then what station is 
this ? Have they carried me by ? ,J 
Observing his embarrassment, " Allen, 
what is the matter? What lias hap- 
pened ? Tell me instantly ! Are we off 
the track? Have we run into another 
train ? Have we broken through 
bridge ? Shall we be burnt alive ? Tell 
me, Allen, tell me, — I can bear it I — 
are we telescoped?" She wrings her 
hands in terror. 

Mr. R, unsympathetically. "Noth- 
ing of the kind has happened Thia 
car has simply come uncoupled, and 



THE PARLOR CAR. 51 

the rest of the train has gone on ahead, 
and left us standing on the track, no- 
where in particular." He leans back in 
his chair, and wheels it round from her. 

Miss G., mortified, yet anxious. 
" Well ? " 

Mr. E. " Well, until they miss us, 
and run back to pick us up, I shall 
be obliged to ask your indulgence. I 
will try not to disturb you; I would 
go out and stand on the platform, but 
it 's raining." 

Miss G., listening to the rain-fall on 
the roof. "Why, so it is!" Tim- 
idly, "Did you notice when the car 
stopped ? " 




52 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Mr. R. "No." He rises and goes 
out at the rear door, comes back, and 
sits down again. 

Miss G. rises and goes to the large 
mirror to wipe away her tears. She 
glances at Mr. Richards, who does not 
move. She sits down in a scat nearer 
him than the chair she lias left. Alter 
some faint murmurs and hesitations, 
she asks, "Will you please tell me why 
you went out just now ? M 

Mr. R., with indifference. " Y< I 
went to see if the rear signal was out." 

Miss G., after another hesitation. 
" Why ? ,J 

Mr. R. " Because, if it was n't out, 



THE PARLOR CAR. 53 

some train might run into us from that 
direction." 

Miss G., tremulously. " Oh ! And 
was it ? " 

Mr. R., dryly. "Yes." 

Miss G. returns to her former place, 
with a wounded air, and for a moment 
neither speaks. Finally she asks very 
meekly, " And there 's no danger from 
the front ? » 

Mr. R., coldly. "No." 

Miss G., after some little noises and 
movements meant to catch Mr. R/s at- 
tention. " Of course, I never meant to 
imply that you were intentionally care- 
less or forgetful." 



54 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



Mr. B., still very coldly. " Thank 



you 



j> 



Miss G. " I always did justice to 
your good-heartedness, Allen ; you 're 
perfectly lovely that way ; and I know 
that you would be sorry if you /•/ 
you had wounded my feelings, however 
accidentally ." She droops her head so 
as to catch a sidelong glimpse of his 
face, and sighs, while she nervously 
pinches the top of her parasol, resting 
the point on the floor. Mr. EL mak 
no answer. "That about the cigar-c 
might have been a mistake; I saw that 
myself, and, as you explain it, why, it 
was certainly very kind and very credit- 



THE PARLOR CAR. 55 

able to — to your thoughtfulness. It 
was thoughtful ! " 

Mr. R. "I am grateful for your 
good opinion/' 

. Miss G. " But do you think it was 
exactly — it was quite — nice, not to 
tell me that your brother's engagement 
was to be kept, when you know, Allen, 
I can't bear to blunder in such 
things ? " Tenderly, " Do you ? You 
can't say it was ? " 

Mr. E. " I never said it was." 
Miss G., plaintively. "No, Allen. 
That 's what I always admired in your 
character. You always owned up. 
Don't you think it 's easier for men to 
own up than it is for women ? " 



56 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



Mr. R. "I don't know. I never 
knew any woman to do it." 

Miss G. " yes, Allen ! You 
know I often own up." 

Mr. R. "No, I don't." 

Miss G. " 0, how can you bear to 
say so? When I'm rash, or anything 
of that kind, you know I acknowledge 
it." 

Mr. R. " Do you acknowledge it 
now ? M 

Miss G. ""Why, how can T, when I 
haven't been rash? What have I been 
rash about ? M 

Mr. R. " About tlie cigar-case, I 
example." 



THE PARLOR, CAR. 57 

Miss G. " Oh ! That ! That was a 
great while ago ! I thought you meant 
something quite recent." A sound as 
of the approaching train is heard in the 
distance. She gives a start, and then 
leaves her chair again for one a little 
nearer his. "I thought perhaps you 
meant about — last night." 

Mr.R. "Well?" 

Miss G., very judicially. "I don't 
think it was rash, exactly. No, not 
rash. It might not have been very 
kind not to — to — trust you more, 
when I knew that you didn't mean 
anything ; but — No, I took the only 
course I could. iVbbody could have 



58 THE PARLOR CAR. 

done differently under the circum- 
stances. But if I caused you any pain, 
I 'm very sorry ; O yes, very sorry 
indeed. But I was not precipitate, and 
I know I did right At least 1 iri 
to act for the best. Don't you believe 
I did?" 

Mr. R. "Why, if you have no 
doubt upon the subject) my opinion ifl 
of no consequence. " 

Miss G. "Y< I > u t what do you 
think ? If vou think differently, and 
can make me see it differently, OUgh! n't 
you to do so ? M 

Mb. R. "I don't Bee why. \- yon 
say, all is over between us." 



THE PARLOR CAR. 59 

Miss G. " Yes." After a pause, 
"I should suppose you would care 
enough for yourself to wish me to look 
at the matter from the right point of 
view." 

Mr. E. "I don't." 

Miss G., becoming more and more 
uneasy as the noise of the approaching 
train grows louder. " I think you have 
been very quick with me at times, 
quite as quick as I could have been 
with you last night." The noise is 
more distinctly heard. "I'm sure 
that if I could once see it as you do, no 
one would be more willing to do any- 
thing in their power to atone for their 



GO TUE PARLOR CAR. 

rashness. Of course I know that 
thing is over/' 

Mr. EL u Ajb to that, I 1 ur 

WOld ; and, in view of the fact, perha; 

this anal\-!- of motive, of character, 
however interesting on general grou 
i- a little — u 

Miss , with sudden violan 

9aj it, and take your I 

have put my* If at your 
do right to trample on me ! . this 
ia what women maj exped when th 
trust to men's generosity i W * 11 , it is 

over now, and I'm thankful, thankful I 

( i ucl, BUSpicioUflj \ indicti\ 

all alike, and I 'm glad thai I 'm : 



THE PARLOR CAR. 61 

longer subject to your heartless ca- 
prices. And I don't care what hap- 
pens after this, I shall always — Oh ! 
You 're sure it 's from the front, 
Allen? Are you sure the rear signal 
is out ? » 

Mr. R., relenting. " Yes, but if it 
will ease your mind, I '11 go and look 
again." He rises and starts towards 
the rear door. 

Miss G., quickly. " no ! Don't 
go ! I can't bear to be left alone ! " 
The sound of the approaching train 
continually increases in volume. "O, 
is n't it coming very, very, very 
fast ? " 



62 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



! Don't be 



Mr. R. "X no 
frightened." 

Miss G., running towards the 
door. " O, I mm t out ! It will 
kill me, I know it will. ome with 
me ! Do, do l j He runs after her, and 
her voice is heard at tl a of tli 
"O, the outfride door is loekt d, and we 

arc trapped, trapped, trapped! 0, 

(piiek ! Lei 's try the door at the 
other end." They re-enter the parlor, 
and the roar of the train announces that 
it is upon them. " No, n It 's too 

late, it 's too late I I 'in a wielt <l, 
wicked girl, and this is all to punish 
me! 0, it's coming, it '> coming at 



THE PARLOR CAR. 63 

full speed ! " He remains bewildered, 
confronting her. She utters a wild cry, 
and, as the train strikes the car with 
a violent concussion, she flings herself 
into his arms. " There, there ! For- 
give me, Allen ! Let us die together, 
my own, own love ! " She hangs 
fainting on his breast. Voices are 
heard without, and after a little de- 
lay the porter comes in with a lantern. 
Porter. u Rather more of a jah 
than we meant to give you, sah ! We 
had to run down pretty quick after we 
missed you, and the rain made the track 
a little slippery. Lady much fright- 
ened ? » 



64 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Miss G., disengaging herself. " 0, 
not at all ! Not in the least. We 
thought it was a train coming from 
behind, and going to run into us, and 






so — we — I - 

Porter. "Not quite so bad as that 
We '11 be into Schenectady in a few 
minutes, miss. I '11 come for your 
things." He goes out at the other 
door. 

Miss G., in a fearful whisper. " Al- 
len ! What will lie ever think of us? 
I 'm -ure he saw us ! " 

Mr. R. "I don't know what he 'II 
think now. He did think you \v< 
frightened ; but you told him you were 



THE PARLOR CAR. 65 

not. However, it is n't important what 
he thinks. Probably he thinks I'm 
your long-lost brother. It had a kind 
of familiar look/' 

MissG. " Eidiculous ! " 

Mr. E. "Why, he'd never sup- 
pose that I was a jilted lover of 
yours ! " 

Miss G., ruefully. " No." 

Mr. R. " Come, Lucy," — taking 
her hand, — " you wished to die with 
me, a moment ago. Don't you think 
you can make one more effort to live 
with me? I won't take advantage of 
words spoken in mortal peril, but I 
suppose you were in earnest when you 



66 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



called me vour own — own — M 11 
head droops ; he folds her in his arms, 
a moment, then she starts away from 
him, as if something had suddenly oc- 
curred to her. 

Miss G. " Allen, where are you 
going ? " 

Mr. R. "Going? Upon my soul, I 
haven ; t the least idea." 

Miss G. u Where were you going? ' 

Mr. E. " 0, I i'- going to 
Albany." 

Miss Q. "Well, don't ! Aunt Mary 
is expecting me here at Schen< !y, — 
I telegraphed her, — and 1 want j 
to stop lure, too, and we '11 refer the 



Lrf& 



THE PARLOR CAR. 67 

whole matter to her. She 's such a 
wise old head. I 'm not sure — " 

Mr. E. "What?" 

Miss G., demurely. "That I'm 
good enough for you." 

Mr. R, starting, in burlesque of her 
movement, as if a thought had struck 
him. " Lucy ! how came you on this 
train when you left Syracuse on the 
morning express ? " 

Miss G., faintly. " I waited over a 
train at Utica." She sinks into a chair 
and averts her face. 

Mr. R. " May I ask why ? " 

Miss G., more faintly still. "I 
don't like to tell I — » 



**.. 



68 



THE PARLOR CAR. 



Mr. R., coming and standing in 
front of her, with his hands in his 
pockets. "Look me in the 
Lucy ! M She drops her veil over her 
face, and looks up at him. " Did you 
— did you expect to find wte on this 
tram?" 

Miss G. "I was afraid it never 
would get along, — it Mas so late ! M 

Mr. R. "Don't — tergiversate," 
MissG. "Don't wkal?" 

Mr. R. " Fib." 
MissG. "a\(»t for worlds ! " 
Mr. EL u How did you know I w 
in tli r?" 

Miss G. "Must I ? I thought I 



THE PARLOR CAR. 69 

saw you through the window ; and then 
I made sure it was you when I went 
to pin my veil on, — I saw you in the 
mirror." 

Mr. R., after a little silence. "Miss 
Galbraith, do you want to know what 
you are ? " 

Miss G., softly. " Yes, Allen/ 

Mr. R. " You 're a humbug ! 

Miss G., springing from her seat, and 
confronting him. " So are you ! You 
pretended to be asleep ! " 

Mr. R. "1 — I — I was taken by 
surprise. I had to take time to 
think." 

MissG. "So did I." 



a 



>> 



70 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Mr. R. " And you thought it would 
be a good plan to get your polonaise 
caught in the window ? M 

Miss G. y hiding her face on his 
shoulder. "No, no, Allen! That I 
never will admit. No woman would ! w 

Mr. R. "0, I date saj | w Alter a 
pause: "Well, I am a poor, weak, 

helpless man, with no one to advise me 
or counsel me, and I have been cruelly 

deceived. How could you, Lucy, how- 
could you? I can never gel over 

this/' He drops his head upon her 

shoulder. 

MlSS G., starting away again and 
looking about the ear. " Allen, I have 



THE PARLOR CAR. 71 

an idea ! Do you suppose Mr. Pullman 
could be induced to sell this car ? " 

Mr. E. "Why?" 

Miss G. "Why, because I think 
it 's perfectly lovely, and I should like 
to live in it always. It could be fitted 
up for a sort of summer-house, don't 
you know, and we could have it in the 
garden, and you could smoke in it." 

Mr. R. " Admirable ! It would 
look just like a travelling photographic 
saloon. No, Lucy, we won't buy it ; 
we will simply keep it as a precious 
souvenir, a sacred memory, a beautiful 
dream, — and let it go on fulfilling its 
destiny all the same." 



72 THE PARLOR CAR. 

Porter, entering and gathering uo 

Miss Galbraith's things. " Be at Sche- 
nectady in half a minute, mi- "Won't 
have much time." 

Miss G., rising and adjusting her 

dress, and then looking about the ear, 

while she ]) hand through h< 

lover's arm. "O, I do hati to leave it. 

Farewell, you dear, kind, good, lovely 

r! May you never have another acci- 
dent \" She k lier hand to the 
ear, upon which they both look back 
they slowly leave it. 

Me. ELj kissing his hand in like 

manner. 4k ( lood by, sweet chariot ! 

May you never carry any but bridal 

couples ! w 



THE PARLOR CAR. 73 

Miss G. " Or engaged ones ! " 

Mr. R. " Or husbands going home 
to their wives ! " 

Miss G. "Or wives hastening to 
their husbands." 

Mr. R. "Or young ladies who have 
waited one train over, so as to be with 
the young men they hate." 

Miss G. "Or young men who are 
so indifferent that they pretend to be 
asleep when the young ladies come in ! " 
They pause at the door and look back 
again. " e And must I leave thee, Par- 
adise ? 9 " They both kiss their hands 
to the car again, and, their faces being 
very close together, they impulsively 



74 THE PARLOR CAR. 

kiss each other. Then Miss Galbraith 
throws back her head, and solemnly 
confronts him. " Only think, Allen ! 
If this car had n't broken its engage- 
ment, we might never have mended 
ours/' 




PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTON & CO. 

CAMBRIDGE, MASS. 

U.S. A. 



m 



Plays and Poems 

BY WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS 



A Counterfeit Presentment. i8mo, $1.25. 
Out of the Question. i8mo, $1.25. 

The Sleeping-Car, and other Farces. i2mo, 

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The Elevator ; The Sleeping-Car ; The Parlor 

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Room Forty-Five; Bride Roses; An Indian 

Giver; The Smoking-Car. Each, i8mo, 50 

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BOSTON AND NEW YORK 



OCT 3 1904 



